


tubbo in a box (: (OLD)

by not_a_furry



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen, Heavy Angst, Mild Language, One Shot, Post-Manberg Festival on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), although i don’t know if it applies since this is so badly written lmao, no beta we die like tubbo, this is tommy what do you expect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:15:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28381563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_a_furry/pseuds/not_a_furry
Summary: okay i can’t fucking stand this being associated with me anymore but i don’t want to delete it because i’m not a fucking coward but i will be rewriting this purely out of spitei will update this after i’m finishedAfter Tubbo’s public execution
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Kudos: 21





	tubbo in a box (: (OLD)

**Author's Note:**

> i have never written angst before, much less someone dying  
> please be nice lmao

“Tubbo!” Tommy yelled. He ran towards the rubble. The ash was settling down, but the air still smelled of gunpowder. The remnants of the festival lay on the ground. The flags burned and tattered, the decorations torn down. Small fires burned all around, the smoke thick and suffocating.

If he closed his eyes, he could see it happening again. Schlatt. Technoblade. The fireworks. He could hear the explosions. The screams of the crowd. The screams of his best friend.

“Tubbo...” He’d reached the dreaded box. How ironic that it was the one thing still intact. The sides were singed, but they were nothing compared to the inside.

It was completely blacked, covered in soot and a slick red substance Tommy’s gut wrenched at. He forced himself to look down. There he was, crumpled at the bottom of the fucking box. The smell of burnt flesh got stronger as he got closer. Tommy’s lunch threatened to make a reappearance. He could barely recognise him.

“Tubbo... What the hell did they do to you?”

“Tommy?” A weak voice said. It was barely a whisper, but it was there. Tubbo looked up, his eyes cloudy and unfocused. He raised a shaky, bloodied arm. “Are you...are you here?”

Tommy grabbed his hand. “I’m here, big man. I’m here.” Tubbo raised his other arm and Tommy pulled him into a hug.

“Tommy, I’m scared,” he whispered. “I can’t—I can’t see you.” His body heaved with sobs. “I can’t see you, Tommy.”

Tommy held him tighter, blood—Tubbo’s blood—staining his arms. “You’re okay—you’re okay, big man.” He held back a sob. “You’ll be okay. I promise.”

“I can’t hear you, Tommy. I can’t—I can’t hear you.” He clung on tighter. Tears blurred his vision, dropping onto the stage below.

“You’ll be okay, Tubbo. You’ll—“ He broke down. They both knew he wouldn’t be okay.

“It’s so cold, Tommy. I’m so cold.” He could barely hear him now. “Tommy. Tommy, I’m scared.”

“I’m here, Tubbo. I’m here,” he said, knowing he couldn’t hear him.

“It’s so, so cold. I’m so tired, Tommy.” Tubbo’s body fell limp in his arms. “I’m so tired.”

He lay Tubbo on the stage in front of him. The rise and fall of his chest got weaker. His eyes stared up, cloudy and unseeing. He reached for Tommy, his arm shaking from the effort. He took his hand.

“Tommy, I’m so tired...”

“Get some rest, big man,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “You—you deserve it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Tubbo’s breathing gradually stopped. His hand fell limp in Tommy’s. Tommy reached over and closed his eyes. He looked so peaceful, almost as if he were asleep. He looked just like a normal 16 year old, with no wars or deaths to worry about.

Around them, the fires burned. The ash had settled, the smell of gunpowder swept away by the breeze.

“Good night, big man.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is so bad i genuinely don’t know if it counts as “heavy angst” lmao


End file.
